The streets of Blackthorn stretched before Lena, cloaked in a heavy mist that dulled the edges of reality. It had been years since she had last wandered the town without Eleanor at her side. Even now, with her sister immersed in her endless research at the Thorncroft estate, Lena felt her presence like a phantom limb. The distance between them was not just physical; it was a chasm of secrets and silences that had grown over the years.

As a child, Lena had idolized Eleanor. Her elder sister had always been the brave one, the clever one, the one who could coax meaning from the inscrutable whispers of the world. But as they grew older, that admiration had twisted into something more complicated. It wasn’t just love; it was a fierce, possessive need to be seen by Eleanor, to be her equal, her anchor. And yet, Eleanor’s gaze always seemed fixed on something beyond Lena, something distant and unreachable.

Lena’s steps led her to the edge of the town square, where the Obelisk loomed. Its surface was smooth and dark, absorbing the pale light of the overcast sky. The villagers avoided it, crossing themselves or muttering prayers as they hurried past. To Lena, it was a monument to their family’s curse, a constant reminder of the burden they bore. She stood before it now, her reflection faintly visible on its polished surface.

"Do you think it’s listening?" a voice asked, startling her.

Lena turned to see Caleb, the blacksmith’s son, leaning casually against a nearby post. His dark hair was tousled, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing arms scarred from years of labor.

"What are you doing here?" Lena asked, her tone sharper than intended.

Caleb shrugged. "Could ask you the same. But I’d wager you’re not here for the scenery."

Lena’s gaze flicked back to the Obelisk. "I’m not afraid of it."

"Maybe you should be," Caleb said, his voice softening. "My father says it’s cursed. That anyone who gets too close loses something of themselves."

"Your father says a lot of things," Lena replied, brushing past him.

She didn’t need his warnings. She’d lived with the curse her entire life. The mark on her wrist itched faintly beneath her sleeve, a constant reminder of the shadow that loomed over her family. But Lena wasn’t afraid of losing herself. She was afraid of losing Eleanor.

The Thorncroft estate was eerily quiet when Lena returned. The grand hall, once filled with laughter and warmth, now felt cold and hollow. She found Eleanor in the library, surrounded by books and papers, her brow furrowed in concentration. The light from a single lamp cast shadows across her face, making her look older and more tired.

"You’ve been here all day," Lena said, leaning against the doorframe.

Eleanor didn’t look up. "There’s too much to do. The Codex—"

"The Codex can wait," Lena interrupted, stepping into the room. "You can’t keep burying yourself in this."

Eleanor finally met her gaze, her dark eyes unreadable. "I’m doing this for us. For you."

"I didn’t ask for this," Lena said, her voice rising. "I didn’t ask for the mark, or the Obelisk, or any of it. I just want my sister back."

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Eleanor’s expression softened, and for a moment, Lena thought she might say something, might let her in. But then the moment passed, and Eleanor turned back to her books.

"I can’t stop," she said quietly. "Not now."

Lena clenched her fists, frustration and helplessness boiling within her. "You’re going to lose yourself," she whispered. "And I’m not going to let that happen."

Later that night, Lena sat by the window in her room, staring out at the Obelisk in the distance. The mist had thickened, wrapping the town in a shroud of gray. She thought of their mother, of the secrets she had taken to her grave, and of the Codex Umbra, with its cryptic warnings and half-truths. Most of all, she thought of Eleanor, her brilliant, stubborn sister, who was slipping further away with each passing day.

Lena made a decision then, one that settled in her chest like a stone. If Eleanor wouldn’t let her in, she would find another way. She would uncover the truth herself, even if it meant stepping into the shadows Eleanor was so determined to face alone.

The next morning, Lena left the estate early, her resolve hardening with every step. She didn’t know where her path would lead, but she knew one thing: she would not lose Eleanor. Not to the Obelisk, not to the mark, and not to whatever darkness lay ahead.